


Vita Nuova

by platypuz



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College student Alex, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Teacher Miles, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 18:31:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7812586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platypuz/pseuds/platypuz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex keeps getting lost in thoughts about his Literature professor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vita Nuova

**Author's Note:**

> I recognize the portrayed relationship in this is viewed as problematic. Although, as a person who had an aching crush on a teacher for a long while, this piece can be seen as a tentative to canalize uncomfortable inner thoughts into something nice.  
> English is not my first language and it's the first fic I write in english, so feel free to point out any mistakes. It's also my first time writing Milex. And smut. Yes, a lot of first times.  
> I pictured Colour of the Trap Miles and The Age of the Understatement Alex for this.  
> Hope you'll like it!

He didn't see that coming.

Well, he did find him handsome at first sight. And his dexterity with words, lectures full of clever analogies and metaphors, as well as his deep knowledge of obscure themes, did captivated him to no end.

But he couldn't tell the exact moment when simple admiration turned into a blatant attraction.  
But he was certain it had been somewhere between the beginning and the ending of their encounter that night. 

Alex was studying in the library. A bit sad, since his friends were all partying in the east side of the campus at the moment, but the fact that he was preventing himself from an imminent walk of shame the next day was comforting.

Alex was shy and reserved, but the task of making new friends in his first semester in university has proven itself not so hard. He had luck and met Matthew by chance, in an awkward first lesson - which required pairs - when no one had met anyone yet. Matt simply walked on him and asked if they could do the essay together. Maybe he felt Alex's nervousness, more than anyone else, and tried to be nice. Since then, with Matt alongside him, he didn't have to try too hard with other people. People were amused by Matt's friendly behavior, and Alex came along as a socially awkward freebie, mantaining conversations with a certain effort, but no total failure nonetheless.

Point is, although he had made some friends, he couldn't bring himself to party with them. As a freshman, Alex didn't trust the veterans and the whole ritual was quite futile to him. He knew many people attending the party that night were just trying to impress and give away a made-up cool impression, and nothing else.

The people there were desperatly trying to build deep bonds, and probably wouldn't even recognize each other a few years later.  
Everything was so liquid, and he wasn't planning to go with the flow. 

He shook these thoughts from his head, as they seemed arrogant even for himself, and tried to focus in the book he had on display on the table. A phylosofical analysis of Dante Alighieri's work he had picked in the library earlier. Alex had been stuck with the Divine Comedy for a while and, after finishing it, he found himself in an awe towards Dante. 

Alex always had a thing for classic narrative, but it was the first time he truly immersed in a piece of writing like that. The poem had filled Alex with beautiful mental scenery, and he was a bit disappointed he had no one to share his infatuation with. Matt was more into contemporary writing.

"Dante, huh?" a low voice called behind him. Alex almost jumped - he was immersed like that.

He turned around as the owner of the voice cracked a laugh, realizing it was his Introduction to Literature professor, Mr. Kane. His laugh was followed by a severe "shhh!" from the librarian, an stereotypical old lady with half-moon glasses, and the professor mouthed "sorry" at her. Then, he looked at Alex and smiled broadly. 

Professor Kane sported a beatles haircut that framed a pointed face, in which standed out expressive, bright hazel eyes. In that night, he was wearing a buttoned gray shirt and black slacks.

"H-hello, sir." Alex greeted; he always found it weird to talk to professors out of class.

"Hello..." Kane seemed to reflect for a moment, then continued: "...Alexander. Right?"

"Yes. " The student tried to think of anything more to say, but dind't need to as the professor proceeded:

"I'm quite happy to find a student who treasure the writing of the old masters. Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those pricks who can't appreciate readings like Harry Potter - I like those very much, by the way. But I'm a sucker for epic narrative, really."

"I... can tell by your classes, sir. " Alex managed to say. It was the first time he was having a proper conversation with Mr. Kane, he realized. He was nervous; afraid of giving his favourite professor a bad impression.

Kane laughed again, much quieter this time, giving the librarian an apprehensive glance afterwards - still comic, though. Alex smiled at that. 

"Yes, I guess you already noticed that I'm a classics nerd. So!" Kane exclaimed. "Dante. Have you read the Divine Comedy yet, or are you just having a taste before the real adventure?"

"I have read, yes." Alex found himself proud to be able to say that. "I loved it."

The huge grin wouldn't leave Kane's face, and he pulled a chair to sit next to Alex. Then he talked.

He and Alex talked for some minutes, exchanging their favourite passages, and Kane naturally shared his profound thoughts on Dante's work, things that didn't even cross the student's mind until then. They talked about Beatrice and how Dante was a helpless romantic - Kane said he identified with the author on that part, and Alex didn't voiced that, but he felt the same.

He also felt really, really happy to have read one of Kane's favourites. Otherwise, he wouldn't have a chance to talk to his professor like that - relaxed, comfortable.  
The conversation passed by many fields (they obviously talked about Harry Potter) and Kane told him that occasionally he donated some books to the library and those were the reason he was there that night, indicating a pile of them on the librarian's counter. 

Alex couldn't help but notice his long and slender fingers - an artist's hand. The professor also told him that he spent some nights at the campus - too much to do, too tired to drive back home.

At one point, Alex revealed that he wrote down a few things, mostly poems, and Kane seemed really excited by that.

"You write well from what I see in your essays. I'm very curious about your creative writing. Why don't you show me one in our next class? I could give you some advice. If you want them, of course. "

Alex got nervous; he had never showed his poems to anyone. But Kane was his Literature professor. Alex was constantly showing him his writing habilities, even if the class activities belonged on another field - mostly dissertations regarding relevant books. And the student occasionally took poetic routes on his papers...

"I'd love to, Mr. Kane." he decided, then.

Kane waved his hand to the side, the universal gesture of "oh, stop that".

"Please, call me Miles." he replied. "Really, I didn't know a job could automatically give you the status of a decrept old man 'til I got here..."

Alex really laughed, then, and it was his turn to get a reprimand from the librarian. Kane smiled back at him, empathic, then got to his feet. 

"Well, I've gotta go now. Got some essays to review..." he shuddered, theatrical, then patted the book on the student's table. "This is a really good one."

Alex nodded, the words escaping his grip as he watched Kane adjust his shirt. 

"Alright. " he finally said. "Goodnight, Mr... I mean, Miles. " the name sounded foreign in his mouth, but not unpleasant. Not at all.

The professor gave him an approval smirk. "Goodnight, Alex." he said softly, starting to walk towards the library door and looking at the student over his shoulder. "I'm looking forward to see your poetry skills."

Alex, in his turn, shuddered, and not theatrically. The use of his nickname and the slight change in Mr. Kane's tone... 

_Doesn't mean anything_ , he thought as he watched the professor's back until he closed the door behind him.

_What am I even thinking?_

"The library is closing, boy." a raspy voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He muttered a weak "okay", grabbed his books and bag and walked away.

 _Doesn't mean anything_ , he thought again, but his imagination didn't care as it began to wander in dangerous paths. 

Matt's return in that night was announced by a loud banging on the door at 4pm, accompanied by an apologetic "I've lost my keys". Alex groaned and dragged himself out of bed, opening the door and being greeted by a tripping Matt. Alex helped his roomate flop onto the bed next to him and returned to his bed, fully awake now and already mourning the death of his good night's sleep.

He heard his roomate mumbling against his pillows, something about how he shouldn't have done that bodyshot; said mumbling gradually being replaced by snoring. 

Alex stared at the ceiling as his imagination came out to play once more.

He pictured their next encounter the next day, a possible praise from Mr. Kane - Miles - regarding his writing. Then a few more words, and Miles was leaning in and long fingers started softly caressing the student's face, soon travelling to his neck and collarbone, the thought sending a feeling akin to a flow of electricity to Alex's lower stomach. 

He turned his head to glance at Matt (who had stopped snoring, but was still engaged in Morpheus' embrace), then returned his gaze to the ceiling as his hand travelled down south.

He didn't see that coming either.

-

The next day has come and Alex feels disgusting.

He's brushing his teeth, his fluffy hair pointing all directions as he meditates over his own image in the stained mirror in the bathroom he shares with Matt. Speaking of which, his roomate is now staring at Alex from the bathroom door, where he's leaning with his arms crossed.

"C'mon, mate, ain't gonna finish?" he calls in a monotonous tone. 

Alex awakes from his trance, wondering how many minutes passed since he started to brush his teeth. He spits into the sink and turns to Matt. 

"D'you think I'm good looking?"

Matt looks at him as if Alex had just gave birth to colorful puppies with six heads.

"Why the fuck are you asking me?"

"Just a question. You can ask me the same thing if you want."

"Well, am I?"

"Yes."

Matt makes a fun expression that indicates he agrees. "Okay. You too, I guess. Got the big eyes and stuff, and your teeth are well-aligned. A great quality."

Alex nods, wondering if his teeth were really a decisive factor on that matter. He continues to check himself on the mirror, searching for any alarming defects. 

"You got a date or something?" Matt suddendly asks, raising one eyebrow suggestively.

"W-what? No!" Alex stutters, feigning a incredulous expression. His roomate cackles.

"You do have!" he accuses. "But don't worry, I won't pressure you. Tell me when you're ready. And you can borrow my stuff if you are planning to..."

Alex huffs indignantly and pushes a laughing Matt to the side as he leaves the bathroom.

It's a friday, which means Mr. Kane's class is the last of the day, which means Alex is losing his mind.

He's getting anxious, trying really hard to focus on his classes, but resistance is futile. He wonders if his poems are up to Kane's standards; if he will find them childish. Or even worst: if he will find Alex childish. He can't decide if his professor's behavior last night was any indicator of an interest on his part towards Alex. Maybe Kane was just being nice. Maybe Alex is too young for him after all. He barely turned eighteen and the professor is like... thirty?  
He doesn't even know if he can look Mr. Kane in the eye after wanking off to thoughts of him.

The only thing Alex is sure about is how deep he's in.

Later, he tries to maintain his composure when Mr. Kane is talking about Shakespeare's sonnets, blissfully unaware of all the nasty things passing by Alex's mind. At some point, the professor cracks a joke - Alex knows that by the way his mouth curves in a toothy smile, but isn't paying much attention as he thinks about how those sharp teeth would find their way into the crook of Alex's neck and bite hard.

He physically reacts to the thought - shaking his head and shoving his face into his hands.

"Alright, laa? " Alex hears a voice from next to him, and lifts his face to find an amused Mr. Kane in front of him. 

"Y-yes, sir." he replies, voice an octave higher. He coughs, then looks around and notices almost the whole class is writing something down - probably the next essay.

"Hangover?"

"God, no. I don't do that kind of stuff." Kane raises an eyebrow. "Not that there's something wrong with it, of course." He finishes, seeing the curious look in his professor's face.

"Oh, never say never. Maybe you'll enjoy that kind of stuff one day." the professor shrugs, nonchalantly, then move away from Alex, heading towards a girl whose hand was up in the air for a while.

The bell finally rings after what felt like eight hours, at least for Alex. It's 9pm, and the students begin to leave the room as soon as possible; another party already in sight, Alex presumes. During the class, he decided against his primal desires and gave up on the idea of showing Mr. Kane his poems; at this rate, Alex wouldn't be surprised if the professor had forgotten the offer. He practically lived in the university and probably didn't had the time for pretentious students anyway...

"Alex?" Mr. Kane suddendly calls when the student is almost at the door. He turns and sees an expectant look in his professor's face, the man reclined in his chair at the wooden counter. There's no one left besides the two of them

"Aren't you gonna show me those poems of yours? I'm still curious, you know."

"Oh!" Alex exclaims. He hesitates, thinking that it would be better if he just lied to his professor and said that he had forgotten the papers at his dorm, but the words that actually come out of his mouth are: "S-sure, sir... just a second."

Alex starts to walk towards Kane's counter while fumbling inside his bag. He pulls out a few creased papers and hands them to the professor. 

"These are my best ones, I think. Hope you'll like them."

Mr. Kane smiles lightheartedly at him, and Alex fights his hardest to resist the urge of simply jumping on him.

"Well, let's see..."

-

A few minutes later, Mr. Kane finishes.

"You choose your words very well, Alex." he praises, running his fingers through the sentences. "I don't know if you always maintain that level, but these are lovely, really."

"Thank you, sir." the student says, staring at the papers in Mr. Kane's hands and trying to ignore the fact that he's been half-hard since he sat across the professor at the counter, his imagination not leaving him alone even when he's facing Miles.

"There's a simplicity on your themes, yet the way you put them is graceful. Also, 'kiss me properly and pull me apart'... Great line. Passionate."

Mr. Kane continues to talk, pointing a few things that Alex could improve, but seeming to really like his work overall. The student is over the moon; it's the first time he gets some recognition regarding a thing he loves doing, and the fact that is Mr. Kane praising him only makes it even better. He tries not to lose himself too much in Kane's hand gestures. 

Alex isn't entirely satisfied, though.

"Well," Mr. Kane announces, standing up. "I'd love to continue our convo, but I have to grade some grammar exams... A nasty job, but someone has to do it. See you next week, laa."

The student feels his heart sink and he looks up at Kane, perplexed.

"Is there something wrong, Alex?"

Alex shakes his head, feeling incredibly stupid for thinking Miles might have had some interest in him on any other matter.

"Not at all, sir." he mutters, defeated, as Kane nods and starts packing his stuff.

Then it strikes him. 

_Miles is waiting for him to make the first move._

He has to make it clear that he wants it. 

It's an automatic decision when he stands up as well and walks towards Miles, who is almost reaching the door.

"Mr. Kane, wait!" he calls, and the professor turns around with a curious expression.

"Yes, Alex? And it's Miles."

Alex swallows hard and approaches the last few centimeters, allowing himself to lean in and press his lips against Miles'.

He tastes like mentol cigarettes and soon he's reciprocating, his long fingers finding their way into the curls of Alex's hair at his nape - and it's much better than any dream.

Miles licks Alex's bottom lip before pulling it with his teeth, and the student takes it as a signal for him to open his mouth further. He does, and is rewarded with Miles' tongue slipping inside. 

Not exactly knowing what to do with his own tongue, he simply enjoys the way Miles' traces along it, a contented little noise coming from his throat, his hand instinctively reaching for Miles' chest as he goes weak at the knees. The professor's hands moves from his neck to his waist, gripping tight and pulling him flush against his chest, pressing their hips together and extracting a little yelp from Alex. Miles pulls away, laughing at his reaction.

"Already?" he asks in a low tone, and Alex doesn't bother answering that, instead grabbing Miles by the neck and connecting their lips again.

He doesn't realize Miles is maneuvering him towards the counter until his knees bump against the edge of it. The professor suddenly breaks the kiss and lifts Alex so he can sit on it, legs in each side of Miles, who stares at him with heavy-lidded eyes. The student pants and his heart races so fast he thinks it might burst right out of his chest. 

"Listen," Miles says, softly. "If you're not comfortable with this, you can tell me. I won't get mad or harrass you in the corridors or anything..."

Alex raises his eyebrows. It's the last thing he had on mind. 

"But, if you want to take this further..." Miles goes on, placing his hands on each of Alex's knees and massaging them with his thumbs. "...we should go to my office."

Alex smiles, relieved, and wraps his arms against Miles' neck.

"Off we go, then." 

 

They walk along the corridors, Miles leading the way and taking alternative and less bustling routes so they can avoid suspicious eyes. In that interlude, Alex tries to stay away from insecure thoughts and focus on what really matters.

Miles wants him.

It's the first time in eighteen years he experiences that: someone wanting him back.

When they reach the door of Miles' office, the professor leans against it and looks at Alex.

"Why don't you do the honours?"

Alex nods and Miles fumbles inside his pockets, soon handing him his key. When he opens the door, Alex is welcomed by a series of paintings and posters hanging on the walls, as well as a pannel full of associated notes, which the student identifies as a mind map. He also finds a wooden counter similar to the one in the classroom, a red couch and...

A chair. Not an ordinary one; a Barcelona chair, with black leather cushions.

He wonders what would be like to ride Miles on it.

Apparently he stares at the chair for a few moments, because the professor suddenly snaps his fingers in front of his face.

"Are you still with us?" he asks, the usual, adorable grin on his face.

 _Miles is a fun person_ , Alex thinks. He would love to chat with him for hours about many, many matters, but all he wants at the precise time is to attack Miles' mouth again, which he does.

Miles proceeds to wraps his arms around Alex's and guide them both to the couch, where he flops down with the boy beneath him, legs wrapped tightly around Miles' waist. They're kissing again, sloppily and open-mouthed; Miles pulls away to watch Alex's reactions as his hands travel beneath the boy's t-shirt, pushing it up and beginning to plant small kisses to his tummy, which soon leads to the professor licking up to his chest and closing his mouth around a nipple to suck on it.

He looks up at Alex and the sight is rewarding: eyes screwed shut and bottom lip trapped between his teeth, repressing his moans. Miles' hands move from Alex's hips and begin fumbling with his ziper. A few movements later, the thin fabric of their underwear is the only thing preventing them from proper contact. Miles grinds himself down against Alex, eliciting a full moan from the boy. The professor is willing to extract more of those sounds, so he hooks his fingers in Alex's boxers and drags them until they're off. He does the same to his own, and they're completely exposed to each other. 

Alex finally realizes that.

No masks, no small talk, no double-meaning sentences. The real thing.

And Alex can't look at him in the eye.

"Love?" Miles notices his discomfort and whispers in a worried tone. "You say 'stop', and we stop, remember?"

Alex sucks in his breath. It's all he could possibly want at the moment, yet he feels terrified.

"I-I want to..." he manages to say, still not looking Miles in the eye. "I just... I'm not sure if I can go all the way..."

Miles cups Alex's flushed face in his hands, caressing his cheeks. "It's alright, baby. We won't go all the way. Can I try something?"

Alex looks up at him with glossy eyes, then gulps and nods slowly.

Miles gets up and walks towards the counter, opening a drawer and taking out a small bottle which Alex recognizes as lube. Miles returns to his previous position, between Alex legs, and opens the cap with a flick of his thumb. Alex takes deep breaths as Miles coats his middle finger in it and proceeds to reach between the boy's buttocks. He whimpers when Miles begins to prod at his entrance, stroking and applying a bit of pressure, then he looks up at him as if asking "is this okay?"

Alex nods again, closes his eyes and waits.

Miles pushes his finger in, slow and carefully, and Alex gasps, grabbing the cushions beneath his head. The sensation is not entirely unfamiliar, but the fact that it's Mr. Kane doing that to him makes him feel much more sensitive.

"Ah!" Alex whimpers when Miles slips further, not bothering to bite back his noises at this rate. Miles stops moving, still searching for any sign of discomfort on Alex's face. The student gathers all his strength to whisper: "You c-can go on, Mr. Kane."

Miles smiles brightly.

"What, aren't you going to correct me this time?" Alex asks, playfully.

"Well, I just realized how gorgeous it sounds when you say it." 

When Miles feels the boy is relaxed enough, he slips his finger until it presses against Alex's prostate, the boy crying out a little too loud and arching his back. Miles pulls out slowly, his index finger joining his middle when he breaches Alex again. Soon he finds a steady rhythm; his fingers pulling in and out, twisting and curling upwards, until Alex is squirming underneath him, trembling and whining incessantly. Miles hears Alex's sounds becoming more high-pitched, feels him clenching helplessly around his fingers, and leans down to whisper in his ear:

"C'mon, love, you're almost there. Can you come just from this? I bet you can. C'mon, do it."

Miles press his lips to the crook of Alex's neck and bites hard as his fingers make a decisive thrust; it's enough to send Alex to his climax, a piercing squeal erupting from his throat as he arches off the couch and grabs Miles' shoulders, nails digging into the flesh and definitely leaving marks. 

He makes a mess on his and Miles' stomachs; their bodies press together and Miles sighs happily as Alex pants in his ear, not likely to come down from his high so soon.

When Alex finally regains the composure, he tugs at Miles' cock until he's coming too; the sight of the boy losing himself, still vivid on his mind, makes the task a lot easier.

The pair hold onto each other tightly, Miles laying at Alex's side, the boy's face pressed against his chest, none of them wanting to move anytime soon. Alex's eyes are closed, enjoying the little head massage Miles is giving to him.

"Remember tonight... for it is the beginning of always." Miles says in his quote voice, wrapping his arms around a giggling Alex and moving them so they can face each other.

After a few more minutes, Alex decides to voice a doubt that is sitting in a dark corner of his mind for a while.

"Miles."

"Ooh, what happened to 'Mr. Kane'? I was starting to like it."

"It's serious." Alex huffs, then sighs. "I... Do you really like me?"

Miles frowns, clearly taken by surprise by the question.

"Of course I do, Alex. Why would you think otherwise?"

Alex's gaze is intense and pierces through his. He gently reaches to Miles' arms, unhooking them from his waist, and sits up, not facing his professor. He looks like he could break at any moment. 

"I was wondering if you were just being nice to me to get me into your bed... well, couch. If you really wanted to talk with me about the Divine Comedy last night, or really enjoyed my poetry... If all this means anything to you at all. You can be honest to me."

Miles just listens, astonished. Now he's sitting up as well, facing Alex's back.

"Alex, look at me." he asks tenderly, and Alex complies, hesitant. "Listen. The very first moment I saw you, in class, I was fascinated. Not because of your literature skills or anything. It's just... you. And when I found out that you were a classics fan, I just couldn't hold myself any longer. I just had to talk to you. And I loved every second of it. You're so thoughtful and witty once you get past the shyness... And your poems. Everything I said about them is true. You're a great writer and I see so much potential in you. Well... I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've always found you adorable, and now I can also say that I admire you, and really would like to spend more time with you."

Alex is at a loss of words; he can sense Miles is being honest about all this, and doesn't know how to come up with an appropriate response. He thinks for a few moments, and finally just says:

"I guess you can tell me a little more about Dante, then."

Miles flashes a grin from ear to ear. He watches with adoration as Alex lies down again with a smirk in his face, then does the same. The boy plants a delicate kiss on his cheek.

Bodies intertwined, they drift off to a peaceful sleep.


End file.
